


We'll learn how to be incomplete

by thefinalgirls



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefinalgirls/pseuds/thefinalgirls
Summary: After a particularly trying Alliance mission - haunted by guilt and expectation - Cassian has to grapple with suppressed feelings and self-realisation, and hopefully find a path forward. (I am so sorry about this; I need someone to teach me how to write summaries.)





	

Soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, Cassian Andor wiped rain from his eyes as he ran up the ramp into the U-wing with the rest of the Rogue One squad after yet another narrow escape. His shoulders were tense and his brows tightly knitted together in frustration. This was becoming entirely too common for him and his crew, and he groaned inwardly thinking about the accompanying paperwork he would have to file upon returning to Yavin 4. He had been running point from atop a plateau shrouded in flora on that particular mission, gazing through the shrubbery into a vast valley populated by the forces of the Galactic Empire. It was a small training camp by Imperial standards, but that wasn’t much of a comfort for the base still spanned at least a couple of acres of land.

His comrades save for Bodhi Rook – who had been tasked to keep the engine running – had been carrying out what was supposed to be an undercover intelligence mission for the Alliance. Per instruction, Jyn Erso and K-2SO had quietly infiltrated the base while Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus and their respective mini squadrons provided additional ground support in the gorge. Weather conditions on this particular moon as well as its vast terrain had provided the quest with certain complications. Low visibility and the biting cold would have made for a tetchy situation on an easier mission, but hindering one that required any level of stealth was much more irritating.

Cassian would have gone in with Jyn and Kaytoo if it hadn’t been for explicit orders from his superiors; as he had always been trained to think, the intel was top priority and he still tried to shake the sense of duty he had towards the Cause. Alliance officials had very openly said that Cassian’s newfound motley crew still raised more than a few eyebrows with the higher-ups anyway, and that they would only trust the Captain with any real responsibility. To risk their highly-ranked officer for a bunch of ‘miscreants’ would be, according to General Draven, “sorely wasteful.” So Cassian had kept to the initial plan. Begrudgingly and for the time being.

It was no secret or surprise to anybody that he hated sitting these things out. He actually enjoyed being in the field; that was the closest thing to an adrenaline rush he ever got nowadays. More than that, he was simply worried about the safety of his crew mates.

And perhaps, of some more so than others.

“Jyn? Jyn, come in,” he had mumbled into the communications receiver that was attached to the inside of his heavy overcoat. No response. Impatiently, he tried again, “Damn it, Erso, are you there?”

“Copy that, Captain, what is it?” Jyn replied softly, her voice crackling through.

“Status update, please.”

“We’ve breached the main control room. Kaytoo’s downloading the files right now; I’m on lookout. Fortunately, this place seems low on Stormtrooper activity. I think it should be a clean break.

“Although,” Jyn continued, “I’d like to point out that it’d be more pertinent to wait for me to call in, and not the other way around. That was the plan, wasn’t it? ‘Very small and very careful’?”

She hadn’t sounded annoyed at all; in fact, she had instead seemed incredibly amused at Cassian’s supposed lack of awareness and initiative in the wake of their predicament.

“She’s right,” Baze randomly chimed in gruffly. “That was risky, Cassian. May I remind you that Chirrut and I are still out here with our troops in a more vulnerable position, freezing our asses off—”

“ _Thank you_ , Baze, for your input,” Cassian grumbled. Damn the collective comms system. “Nobody was checking in for a while, alright? It was concerning. How’s Chirrut doing?”

“Just adequately!” the blind warrior practically chirped. “The trooper squadrons here seem barely trained, we knocked them all out easily. Shame about this weather, but Jyn and K-2S0 seem to be doing fine. I’d say that this is going than expected!”

“I can’t believe you’re _this_ happy when we’re _this soaked_ —!” Baze growled.

Cassian squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. “Okay, stop that before it becomes another one of your arguments!—”

“—I’d like to remind _everyone_ to stop opening the comms lines unnecessarily,” Bodhi abruptly spoke up from the ship’s main console, sounding anxious as ever. “This is a _deep cover mission_ —”

Cassian sighed in exasperation. “Funny how everyone wants to be in charge all of a sudden, Bodhi! Anyway – _Jyn_ , _Kaytoo_ – just listen. I’ve seen more convoys coming in on Imperial ships, so you’d better hurry. I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as Chirrut’s making it out to be—”

“ _Cassian_ ,” Kaytoo interjected, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at his best friend. “Intelligence is secured, we’re ready to leave. But, as much as it _pains_ me to say this, I have to agree with Jyn. There was absolutely no need to contact us when we’ve got it under contr—”

There had been no time for the droid to finish. What Cassian had heard next were the zaps and explosions of engaged blasters and muffled footsteps, and his reaction had been immediate; practically unthinking. He’d hastily pushed himself up from the mud and made his way into the compound as the alarms began to sound, loaded blaster cocked and ready while he shouted orders into his comms device. Cassian couldn’t count how many Stormtroopers and Death Troopers he’d then put down to get to his friends. It didn’t take him too long to find them as Jyn and Kaytoo were well on their way out the front door when they had finally run into each other. The three of them then had to fight their way to an established rendezvous point with Baze and Chirrut, where Bodhi had brought their starship to a haphazard landing. Cassian had made sure his entire squad was safely boarded before doing the same, and was the last of the group to witness the remainder of the Imperial forces straggling in their wake, still attempting to shoot them down.

But there was no time to feel victorious until they were safely out of the moon’s orbit. Still plodding around in his water-logged rain boots, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, Cassian made his way to the main deck, seated himself in front of the steering console and took over piloting responsibilities. It was only after they made the jump to light speed and left that star system far behind that he even began to feel like he could actually breathe again. Marginally, but it was progress. Finally, he could turn the controls over to Bodhi and Kaytoo, and step out of the cockpit.

“Cassian,” Jyn called out to him, walking over to where he was putting away his heavy rain gear. When Cassian looked up, he noticed her watching him expectantly, her arms crossed in front her as she leant against the side of the ship. There was still a slight blush illuminating her skin from the earlier adrenaline rush; her eyes sparkled in a distinctly excitable manner. “We’re ready to start debriefing whenever you are—are you alright?”

“Hm? Yes, of course. Why do you ask?” Cassian responded absentmindedly.

Jyn shrugged nonchalantly, although her eyes searched his face as she spoke, “Nothing! Or I mean, it’s just… That’s a deeper-set frown than I’ve seen in a while.”

She reached over and clasped his forearm in reassurance. “We did really well, everyone’s so pleased about how the mission turned out. Well, everyone except you, it seems.”

The warmth of her palm travelled through Cassian’s icy cold shirt sleeve to his skin, causing goosebumps to crawl all over. For a brief moment, he was forcibly shaken out of his pensive stupor when he realised just how unmistakably concerned Jyn was. She was still examining his every micro expression, her gaze darting across his features and her brow now furrowed in concentration. He felt the compression in his chest release slightly, but the overall anxiety maintained its ugly, tight grip on his lungs and heart.

So it took a lot for Cassian to endeavour a chuckle, but what came out was merely something mirthless. “I guess I’m a little tired of these close calls we keep running into. We completed the mission, yes. But we also nearly died…again. If it had just been Scarif and maybe once more after that, this wouldn’t be a problem. But _every single mission_? I’m starting to think I’m—we’re doing something wrong.”

There was a side of him that was being unreasonable and expected some kind of response from her, but what of, he wasn’t entirely sure. Sympathy? Empathy? Very likely a mixture of the two. Yet, the reality was that Jyn was left speechless by his surprisingly forthcoming reply, and that was the most understandable reaction.

So Cassian just waved a hand in the air, as though to say ‘forget it’. It was petulant and Jyn was undeserving of what was a minor tantrum in his mind. But he was only certain of one thing at the time, and that was that he wanted to indulge in some kind of…selfishness...if only for a tiny moment. After all, he was a Captain. It was his job to think of others and he had been doing it for what felt like an uncountable number of years. A split-second of cantankerousness was surely forgivable…

_Count from ten,_ Cassian told himself, inhaling and exhaling deeply with his eyes shut, desperately praying for a sense of balance to return. Sometimes, this practice worked, and his heartrate would slow to something less frenetic. But right then, it was ineffective. He could only use logic to guide himself out of the dark inward spiral; words were the perfect shield.

“Don’t worry about it, Jyn,” Cassian sighed, moving to walk past her and placing a hand on her shoulder lightly. “It’s my responsibility, I’ll think of what to say to Draven. After all, it’s not like we failed.” He paused, swallowing the overwhelming urge to contradict that very statement.

Cassian then cleared his throat and went on, “We’ll debrief now and let everyone get a few hours’ rest on the journey back. Come on.”

 

* * *

 

His meeting with Draven and the other Generals went about as well as could be expected. The recovered intel was quickly verified and the Rogue One team was finally allowed a small reprieve for a couple of days. They had been on several missions back-to-back, so a break was very much welcomed. Such a period of lull was always a little complicated for Cassian, though. Whenever he found himself alone, in a bunk much more comfortable than the one on his ship, as sleep evaded him in the relative cosiness of relaxation, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he hardly felt happy. It was a consequence of a lifetime with the Rebellion, handing himself over completely without it ever being a real choice. He had started so young, so this was the only life he had ever known.

At least now he had the rest of Rogue One; what a strange band of outsiders whom he felt oddly attached to. If Cassian allowed himself any kind of sentimental thought even within the sanctity of his own mind, it would be aimed at his friends. He revelled in their times spent together, on- and off-duty. So it was a shame that ‘fun’ was still moderated; most of the crew members weren’t allowed to do much at Headquarters due to some impression of military decorum, especially during such tough times for the galaxy.

So their nights back were usually spent imbibing and retelling stories by a fire that they would set up a little away from the sleeping quarters. Their tales were obviously only amusing in hindsight – normally a recitation of someone’s near-death experience – yet it was a lovely tradition.

Such company was probably what Cassian treasured the most. Bodhi, removed from the stress of starship piloting, was uproariously funny and gave Kaytoo a run for his money. Baze and Chirrut were much quieter in comparison, but good-natured and observant. Either that, or they would be bickering about something absolutely mundane. Jyn normally sat with them; she seemed to connect to the sense of fatherliness both older men carried with them wherever they went. There was an observable level of respect between them, and she always appeared calmer in their presence.

As for Cassian himself, he normally sat slightly away from the group, taking comfort in the shadows with his lips pressed lightly to the top of a beer bottle. He preferred to stay silent, choosing instead to drift in and out of that pure idyllic notion of almost-family that played out before him. There was always an impending darkness fighting its way to engulf him, stamping out serenity and safety in its wake. Nevertheless, with his crew around and no other distractions, that became a lot easier to deal with.

But what Cassian _really_ looked forward to – his favourite part of those evenings at Headquarters – occurred only after everyone else had finally retired, and it was just him and Jyn left; when yearning gazes freely transformed into actual contact. One of them always went to the other, but neither were much for words. Yet, they had options. It was either met hands, lips, tongues and hearts, or they would just sit in an embrace – her head in the crook of his neck and his fingers tracing shapes into her side – as the fire faded out before them. Cassian had realised that he felt a kind of safety with Jyn ever since Eadu, and although they were still working out what they actually _were_ to each other, he could rest assured that it was at least something good.

Regardless of the nature of the missions that came prior – whether they had been particularly taxing or laughably easy – this was something Cassian definitely anticipated. He was prepared to say that it was what he needed.

So when he arrived at their gathering rather late after his meeting with the Generals, and Jyn wasn’t there, to say his heart dropped would have been a vast understatement. It felt like it had sunk to his boots instantaneously.

At least, it was to the crew’s credit that Cassian did not need to ask where she was.

“We don’t know if she’s coming,” Baze said the moment that he observed the Captain’s eyes scanning the party.

He must have looked far more downcast than he wished to. Cassian turned his gaze onto the older warrior inquisitively, before also looking questioningly at the rest. “Did she say anything?”

“Um, she told me she was tired and that we should meet without her,” Bodhi piped up, shrugging. He reached into the cooler at his feet and retrieved a drink. He handed it to Cassian, who accepted it a little reluctantly.

“That’s…unusual. Shouldn’t we go and check on her—?”

“She didn’t really seem off to me,” Bodhi said. “Just looked exhausted. I made sure she got back to her quarters alright, then came here.”

“But it’s hardly our tradition without Jyn—”

“Let her have her space, Captain,” Chirrut insisted. “She was tended to, and we can only assume she’ll be here if or when she wants. Now, sit down. We’re all dying to have a drink.” He gestured to an empty spot next to him on the grass.

Part of Cassian quite urgently needed to find Jyn for himself to really make sure nothing was wrong. Yet – again – self-interest didn’t beget warranty. Chirrut was right, and even if Cassian did manage to find her, convincing her to do something she would much rather avoid was going to take some work; least of all if she couldn’t see what was in it for her. But that thought too saddened him. Everyone else seemed more than willing to be back together except for her.

Even as Cassian eventually relaxed into the banter with the rest of his squad mates, his mind wandered back to his little moment with Jyn back on the ship. He couldn’t help but consider if what he had said to her was far too much of an emotional dump on someone that he knew shared his reserved nature. It wasn’t the only personality trait they shared. They were so similar that oftentimes Cassian actually felt like he was interacting with some part of himself that he hadn’t quite learnt how to attain or tap into. They were both broken children of the Rebellion; just drastically different per necessity and consequence. Where Cassian had learnt to completely suppress his emotions, Jyn was the corresponding fire, a volatile personality bubbling beneath the surface of her purposely blank exterior.

He knew she had registered his slip in words earlier. “I’m starting to think _I’m_ —we’re doing something wrong.” He had been over-tired and let his guard down for a second, and had mentally kicked himself for being so careless. However, the damage had already been done. That expression that she wore… it was the saddest he had seen her since her father’s death on Eadu. Maybe wherever she was, she was taking it too much to heart.

Cassian was guilty. He was usually a lot better at masking negative emotions from the rest of the crew. Yet, he had inadvertently hurt the one person he could admit to caring the most about.

As the night wore on, Cassian found himself reaching for a little more beer than usual. He drank slowly as he ruminated, and the accompanying inimitable addled feeling was wholly welcomed. It cradled him, and it felt like he was lying in the most comfortable hammock, being rocked in a soft breeze as he dozed… or this was what he imagined such a sensation to feel like. That was all Cassian had left half of the time; if he didn’t imagine something good in the spaces of silence and solitude, there would only be too much residual remorse and anger. With or without the haze of alcohol, there were many things about Cassian – past and present – that felt insurmountable. He only got small recesses of short-lived pleasure and peace.

Fatigue softly tugged at Cassian’s ear, eventually causing him to rest his head in his palm while his eyes fought to stay open. Every time his eyelids fluttered wide, bits of time had slowly been eaten away. Which part of this anecdote was Bodhi telling now? What was Baze laughing at? Kaytoo had disappeared for some reason, although Cassian was too tired to really question it.

That was, until he saw the blurry outline of the lofty droid approaching them from a distance. An equally indistinct silhouette accompanied him, much smaller and slighter. Cassian felt hope rise in his heart as he blinked sleep out of his eyes and sat up a little straighter.

Jyn was carrying something in both arms – a large basket that became apparent the closer she got to the group. Kaytoo seemed disinclined to lend a hand, as could have been expected, until Cassian noticed he was indeed carrying two separate baskets in his robotic arms as well.

“What the hell is this?” he couldn’t help but tipsily blurt out, laughing slightly at the sight of his comrades as they arrived.

“Oh my god, is he alright?” Jyn asked, turning to face the other men gathered around the fire.

“You could just ask me, Erso!” Cassian said, slurring his words slightly.

Jyn put her basket down and – shaking her head – sauntered over to where he sat and yanked the beer bottle out of his hand. She dragged the cooler that he had managed to commandeer earlier in the night further away from him.

“Why did you let him drink so much?” she accused the rest of the team.

“We had no idea he would take it so far!” Kaytoo exclaimed matter-of-factly as he came up behind her. “Anyway, no one else knew the particulars of your sneaky plan except me – and let me just say that it was difficult keeping this a secret, _especially_ from you, Cassian – …I suspect they just wanted him to have some semblance of a good time.”

“I find it hard to believe,” Cassian mumbled sceptically, “that none of you knew or helped in orchestrating this.”

“Oh, we were aware Jyn was up to something! She told us as much, and we all agreed to keep you here,” Chirrut declared. “But really, she kept the nitty gritty details close to her chest. We just trusted that she knew what she was doing.”

“Honestly, Jyn, what’s all this?” Bodhi asked quietly, a small smile playing on his lips. Jyn was kneeling by the goods she had brought, examining the contents of every basket.

“Whatever it is, I’m just surprised she told the droid, and not _us_ ,” Baze interrupted, sounding annoyed. Cassian looked over at him, and thankfully his face bore a more good-natured countenance compared to his brusque tone.

“I was kind of hoping none of you would be too precious about that,” Jyn sighed. “I needed help carrying all this stuff but having more people in on this would’ve just made things difficult. I don’t suppose you’re all the best actors in the galaxy. Imagining trying to make all of you go behind Cassian’s back was painful enough without risking it. I picked Kaytoo ‘cause I knew as soon as I told him who this was all for, he would basically be incapable of going against me. Can’t go against programming.”

Cassian eyed the droid towering over the squad and was sure if it had the ability to have facial expressions, it would have been one of indignation and perhaps embarrassment. He couldn’t help but crack a wide smile at the thought. He then focused his gaze to Jyn.

“What _is_ this?”

“This, Captain Andor,” she replied, beaming, “is your welcome home party.”

Jyn began pulling out smaller containers from the baskets and opening lids, the most appetising of aromas wafting right out.

“Those are—that’s rationed for the Alliance Generals, Jyn!” Cassian exclaimed, almost sounding appalled.

“Where did you get _real_ vegetables?” Chirrut wondered aloud, practically burying his nose into one of the boxes.

“I don’t think I’ve had anything besides ready-to-eat meals for…actual years,” Bodhi mused.

Jyn was laughing. “To clarify, I obviously didn’t make any of this, but nor did I steal it—”

“—who did you bribe?” Baze enquired drolly, gingerly inspecting something stew-like.

Cassian observed her cock her head to glare at the warrior. “If you must know, I had to pay two cooks most of what I’d saved from our last two trips, and I have to bring them back some extremely rare herbs…for the foreseeable future.”

“If Draven finds out about this, you are definitely going to be grounded— Is that even worth it?” Cassian asked incredulously.

Jyn hardly waited for him to finish the question before answering, “Yes.” Simple; no frills. A statement of fact. Cassian’s heart felt like it leapt a little ways upwards to his throat. He was suddenly awake.

“Y-you said this was ‘my’ coming-home party, but that makes no sense,” he stammered. “We’re all here together, the whole crew should be celebrated—”

“—we’ve all spoken about this,” Jyn cut in, “and we’ve decided that we all owe you a bigger debt than the one we owe each other.”

She made her way over and sat cross-legged in front of him, putting a hand on his forearm much like she had earlier that day on the starship.

“If it weren’t for you, Cassian, we wouldn’t get a chance to be Rebels. What with the Alliance and trust issues, and the fact that you’ve kept us together no matter what and made sure all of us got out safe each time…”

Jyn’s hand moved to grasp his, and Cassian felt a shiver run up his spine when their fingers met and interlocked.

“Look,” she finally said, shaking her head slightly as though embarrassed. “I’m not good at talking, but I just thought that you deserve something that showed you how grateful we are for everything you do for us. You’re a good Captain, and we’re with you all the way.”

They looked at each other for what seemed like hours, and as though they weren’t intently watched by the rest of the Rogue One squad. Cassian realised he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Jyn and kiss her; kiss her everywhere from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Even if some of it was the alcohol talking, he couldn’t remember ever being so incredibly moved by a single, simple gesture from anyone in his life. Not since he was six and had lost his entire world to regimes and insurgences. The fact that something like this was inspiring such a deep, emotional response in him was almost enough to bring him to tears. He could feel something again that was almost tangible, and made his heart ache in a sweet way.

He wanted to tell all of these things to her – show it – but it wasn’t the right time. Instead, Cassian merely smiled at Jyn, and when she smiled back, it was as though she had already read his mind.

 

* * *

 

Cassian couldn’t remember ever seeing Jyn with her hair down. Or at least, not like _this_.

It was always pulled tightly into a bun that sat low at the back of her head, with only a few strands tugged loose to frame her face and her fringe pushed out of the way. In typical Jyn Erso fashion, there was something simultaneously put-together and utterly unbothered in such an appearance. Taut and loose; disciplined but flexible.

Jyn had never been in Cassian’s quarters before, and had spent a few seconds looking around when she entered the tiny room. It was barely though to fit a person. She had gazed appreciatively around her despite the fact that there was nothing much to admire. He had kept it almost depressingly bare simply because he was never in it long enough to bother putting down any sort of roots. There were small bits of memorabilia, though; a very old and faded photograph of a father, mother, and son sat on his desk next to a small stack of books. She had turned around as though to ask permission to examine these items, and only reached for them after he had explicitly nodded his head ‘yes’. Jyn’s eyes were filled with wonderment and curiosity as she ran her fingers over the dusty photograph, studying it intently. Cassian thought he saw a hint of fresh tears glisten in her eyes.

It was then that she hastily undid the knot and let her messy brunette waves scatter over her shoulders, putting the picture down and running her fingers through the curls as she turned her back on him briefly. Cassian definitely heard her sniffle but when the look she bore when she finally swivelled on the spot to face him was that of quiet gratefulness. She smiled even though her nose was slightly reddened and she still looked to be on the verge of tears; he could see that it was genuine.

Cassian would never have described Jyn as necessarily youthful from their first meeting. They weren’t much far off in age, and her sense of weariness matched his own; he was certain that such disillusionment had made her wise beyond her years much like it did him.

But looking at Jyn just then, finally indulging in some semblance of unadulterated emotion, was like quenching a thirst Cassian didn’t realise he had. It seemed silly and superfluous to connect something as vast and all-encompassing as personal history with a single act of vanity – letting down one’s hair – but it somehow fit. In their world where the only constant was an uncertain future, he was going to find a way to make it fit at any rate.

Cassian had tentatively walked into the room after Jyn, and simply watched her for a few moments while he leant up against the closed door behind him. Whatever happened tonight was going to be different from any past rendezvous. He didn’t know if he was going to tell her, but he loved her. He had barely admitted it to himself, but that was the only way he could really put an inkling of that feeling out there. It was something that made him feel so _whole_. Nevertheless, it was an incomplete expression that Cassian struggled to grapple with. ‘Love’ was almost _too modest_ , but perhaps words weren’t enough to describe exactly what he was feeling.

He snapped out of his musings when he noticed Jyn approaching him slowly. She placed her hands on his shoulders, running them down to his chest slowly. She leant on him lightly, her chin resting on the top of his sternum. Her green eyes bored into his deep browns for what seemed like eternity, and Cassian thought that an array of emotions seemed to swim within them. Perhaps they were comparable to his.

Jyn tipped her head downwards and pressed her lips against Cassian’s chest, inhaling deeply as she buried her face entirely into it. One of his hands hands instinctively moved to cradle her crown and he ran his fingers through her loose tresses. The other traced the shape of her face from her temple, and down her jawline to her chin. He guided her to look up at him again, and without much warning, kissed her deeply.

Jyn tasted of the Alderaan wine she had bartered and smelt like a heady mixture of spice and pine. She tiptoed slightly as she eagerly returned Cassian’s kiss and leant into his embrace, filling any available space between them and pushing him up against the door. Jyn’s hands had made their way up to Cassian’s neck, which burnt beneath her touch; a sensation that travelled up to his ears and down his torso. Her fingertips pressed to his pulse points while his own hands ran down the small of her back, and he gripped her by the waist. The feeling of holding onto her like he was clinging onto dear life, it felt practically insatiable to have her this way.

Cassian lifted Jyn from the floor and carried her to his bunk. It was far too small for two, but would have to do for the time being. He felt a little clumsy in his neediness, and had to make sure she wouldn’t hit her head against the low ceiling above the bed as he placed her delicately on the mattress. They continued to explore each other’s mouths deeply, not unlike what they had done casually before but there was a bubbling energy between them – an enthusiasm – that wasn’t normally present.

A frequent refrain in their relationship was that maybe the luxury could wait. They would take it slow because a thing called Hope would somehow have them believe they would be able to survive the war, then find a place to settle down in. Somewhere no would could find them, and a place they would never want to leave. Jyn had often feed these fantasies by whispering stories to Cassian during their little moments by dwindling fires about the serenity of her homeland; the grassy fields inexplicably marred by black sand on Lah’mu or some other Outer Rim planet seemed perfect for them.

But all Cassian knew right then – with the feeling of Jyn underneath him as they frantically undressed, barely letting their lips part in the flurry of scattered clothes and ruffled bed covers – that perhaps waiting for perfection would rob him of this. Rob _them_ of the goodness that they desperately needed. Cassian still struggled to believe that he deserved even an ounce of the bliss permeating his very being as his mouth finally left Jyn’s only to leave butterfly kisses down her neck, chest, and stomach. It felt better to taste her and hear her and feel her than anything in recent or distant memory.

They didn’t keep track of how long they made love for; after all, they’d created their haven in the cramped, humid space of Cassian’s bed and it almost felt suspended in time. Regardless of whatever was going on in the outside world – in the wider universe – this was their tangled mess of limbs and hair; gasps and measured breaths. Skin to skin and heart to heart.

Eventually, they just laid side-by-side, naked and spent but far from drowsy. The tiniest slivers of moonlight trickled in between the long, thin grills secured over the sole window in the room. It lit their languid bodies up in intervals, and Cassian traced these shards of illumination over Jyn with his fingertips. She giggled softly upon this ticklish contact, and grasped the offending hand in hers to stop it from further transgression. In the relative darkness and their incredible closeness, Cassian watched Jyn as she tugged at the skin on the back of his hand, pinching him but not enough for it to actually hurt. She laced and unlaced her fingers through his own calloused appendages, and kissed his palm gently. Cassian knew he would never tire of the way she then looked up into his eyes – a smile embedded in her crows’ feet as her light greens sparkled with promise – and he felt an urge to say… He almost said…

He didn’t. It didn’t have to be said. Maybe one day soon, but not right then. For the moment, he simply kissed her forehead and let his lips linger, hearing her contentedly exhale. She hugged him in return.

The next time Cassian turned his eyes to Jyn, he noticed that she had stilled and her breath was levelled and deep. She barely stirred as he lightly brushed strands of hair out of her heart-shaped face and rested his head atop hers, only tightening the grip she had around his waist. He silently contemplated ‘love’ and all its forms as he closed his eyes and finally let sleep take him, unsure of this newfound feeling of calmness but embracing it all the same. This was something better than just ‘good’.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting around for more than a week so I don't know if I necessarily want to talk about it too much anymore. It exists; I'm nervous about it. It was supposed to be less introspective but... 
> 
> It's unbetaed so please forgive any grammatical errors if you do find any. I appreciate your feedback, as always. Thank you for reading!


End file.
